ESCAPE
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One foot falls in front of the other. A massive truck flies past you, the wind off it's mass is nearly enough to knock you over. But you're used to this by now. You've been walking along the freeways for almost a week now, traveling through two states on your way to New York. Things will be better in New York, you figure. They would have to be.
Your trip to NYC is an attempt to clear your head and your heart of pain. But it seems to travel with you, just as severe now as it was then. Just as hard to deal with as it was on the night you found out. Maybe not exactly as severe as then, but the hurt still stings deep.
It can't possibly be quite as bad as when you were still in the apartment. Nothing can be that bad. In the middle of the night you would roll over in bed, expecting her form to be there for your arm to wrap around, only to find an empty bed. In these instances you would rub your hand along where she used to lye, feeling the cold fabric and remembering better times. Sometimes the tears would come, other times they would not. You're not sure if it bothers you more on nights when the tears present themselves or on nights when they are absent.
You stop before a tire flattened bit of road kill. You stare down upon it, thinking about how it must have once been a cute little furry thing that would have made Claudia smile. Now it's nothing but a disfigured mess of blood and guts spilled upon the asphalt roadside. So much like your dear wife. You take a picture of it with your Polaroid camera in the hopes that the lighting and subject capture the feelings it conjured within you.
You look up at the sky and see that the sun is starting to set. A road sign indicates that an off ramp is coming up in less than a mile where you can go to a Sunshine Hotel and sleep for the night. It is rare anymore that you can sleep at night, but you know you must try, less the delirium overtakes you again.
Resuming your walk, you wonder if you can bear to relive that night in your dreams again. That terrible night when you got the phone call about Claudia.
You push such thoughts from your mind and keep walking, less you become grief stricken again. You don't want to relive that. You just want to be happy again.
How can you ever be happy again?
After few minutes of pushing back tears, you stand before the off ramp and ponder sleeping in the hotel for the night, or continuing along the freeway. Another truck blows past you, kicking dust particles up into your face and stinging your eyes.
_____________________________________________________________
One foot falls in front of the other. A massive truck flies past you, the wind off it's mass is nearly enough to knock you over. But you're used to this by now. You've been walking along the freeways for almost a week now, traveling through two states on your way to New York. Things will be better in New York, you figure. They would have to be.
Your trip to NYC is an attempt to clear your head and your heart of pain. But it seems to travel with you, just as severe now as it was then. Just as hard to deal with as it was on the night you found out. Maybe not exactly as severe as then, but the hurt still stings deep.
It can't possibly be quite as bad as when you were still in the apartment. Nothing can be that bad. In the middle of the night you would roll over in bed, expecting her form to be there for your arm to wrap around, only to find an empty bed. In these instances you would rub your hand along where she used to lye, feeling the cold fabric and remembering better times. Sometimes the tears would come, other times they would not. You're not sure if it bothers you more on nights when the tears present themselves or on nights when they are absent.
You stop before a tire flattened bit of road kill. You stare down upon it, thinking about how it must have once been a cute little furry thing that would have made Claudia smile. Now it's nothing but a disfigured mess of blood and guts spilled upon the asphalt roadside. So much like your dear wife. You take a picture of it with your Polaroid camera in the hopes that the lighting and subject capture the feelings it conjured within you.
You look up at the sky and see that the sun is starting to set. A road sign indicates that an off ramp is coming up in less than a mile where you can go to a Sunshine Hotel and sleep for the night. It is rare anymore that you can sleep at night, but you know you must try, less the delirium overtakes you again.
Resuming your walk, you wonder if you can bear to relive that night in your dreams again. That terrible night when you got the phone call about Claudia.
You push such thoughts from your mind and keep walking, less you become grief stricken again. You don't want to relive that. You just want to be happy again.
How can you ever be happy again?
After few minutes of pushing back tears, you stand before the off ramp and ponder sleeping in the hotel for the night, or continuing along the freeway. Another truck blows past you, kicking dust particles up into your face and stinging your eyes.
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